


The Search for f(x) of Newt's Arse

by waterfallliam



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 14:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7848961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterfallliam/pseuds/waterfallliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the day they first met in person, Hermann has had an obsession with Newt's arse. On what seemed to be a normal day in the lab, during what seemed to be a normal conversation, Newt thinks the only way to proceed is show Hermann his bare arse. Spoiler alert: they have sex after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Search for f(x) of Newt's Arse

**Author's Note:**

> So since I love crack fic I finally wanted to have a go at writing one! Though this turned out way more smutty than expected (I'm not confident my smut writing abilities but anyway I tried my best). Thank you to Flux (linearoundmythoughts) and xDestinyIsCallingx for your advice and encouragement in the chat! It was a great help :))). Translation: verdammt nochmal = dammit. And thank you for reading!

It all began on the fateful day when Hermann met Dr Newton Geiszler in person. Technically an argument could be made that it had been set in motion when Hermann first replied to Newt’s letter, since a meeting would inevitably follow - even if it would take years - and so that would be the starting point. But the actual moment of genesis was during their first face to face meeting. It was on that day that Hermann’s irrational obsession with Dr Newton Geiszler’s arse began.

Since then Hermann had of course tried to rationalise it, and had come up with a concise list of reasons to explain this phenomenon. He was loathe to think what would happen if his colleague found out, and so he kept it well hidden.

_Possible reasons why Dr Geiszler’s arse has a gravitational-like pull on me_

  * Looks very good in those jeans
  * Perfect amount of chub to hold and fondle
  * Looks very grippable
  * I want to touch it
  * Very much
  * Cute
  * I have an unprecedented weak spot for him
  * Very cute



Hermann thought the list needed some work, especially the title.

After the initial sighting of Newt’s arse, clad in skinny jeans that frankly scared Hermann just a little, Hermann was a goner. He had been able to dismiss it as one off right up to the point where they had been forced to share a lab. As annoying and unorderly as Newt could be, it was his arse that distracted Hermann from his work the most, not his music as Hermann vehemently claimed. At first he had ignored it, had scolded himself if he caught himself looking, but eventually Hermann had realised that his obsession wasn’t going away.

It made Hermann’s life difficult in more ways than he had thought possible. Every day he inevitably found his gaze wandering along with his thoughts. He shouldn’t stare, nor look, quite so much. Hermann didn’t want to objectify Newt. He was a brilliant scientist and Hermann had quite a lot of affection for him alongside all the insults. Hermann actively tried not to think of Newt’s when he jacked off, but his success rate was abysmal.

In his further attempts to live like this, Hermann decided on a course of action. If only he could understand Newt’s arse better, then maybe it would stop being so mysterious and Hermann could get back to living a life free of it jiggling at him every time he closed his eyelids.

To do that, he would have to know everything about it. Its curvature, consistency, texture and so on… the only problem was that he would have to get up close and personal to acquire accurate data. Maybe he could try to ascertain its curvature without getting too close-

“Hermann, you’re staring again.” Newt’s voice interrupted Hermann’s thoughts.

“Yes, this mess is unacceptable!” Hermann congratulated himself on that timely save.

“Seriously, this again?” Newt frowned.

“Your side of the lab is still a raging mess.”

“Oh well,” Newt waved his arms up and down, “sorry I don’t have a stick shoved up my ass like you! Its an organised mess, okay, and its conductive to my thought process.”

Newt mentioning the very thing Hermann was trying to forget decidedly _didn’t_ help _his_ thought process.

“Of course you don’t have a stick shoved up your arse, I’d have noticed,” Hermann muttered to himself, turning back to his chalkboards. They were larger than life and therefore all the more engaging. There was plenty of room for all the thoughts and theories waiting to burst out of his head and come to life, ready to save the world.

Hermann desperately wished maths could help save him from his own personal apocalypse. Every day in lab was the same. Coffee in the mornings, tea in the afternoons, break for lunch, sometimes dinner, a break for staring whenever it was too compelling not to and Newt wasn’t paying attention to him -which happened more often than Hermann would like.

Newt’s wardrobe seemed to consist of one suit (Hermann had seen it once, and it had appeared to be undamaged at the end of the night), plenty of shirts and soft tees, a few of those ridiculous skinny ties (which looked good for tugging on, Hermann admitted) and yet he appeared to have no pairs of trousers except skinny jeans. Those delicious, dangerously distracting skinny jeans.

Hermann felt his cheeks heat up when he realised that his assumption implied Newt slept in his underwear, maybe with a t-shirt. Their quarters were over the generators, they didn’t lack heat. Maybe Newt slept naked. The chalk in Hermann’s fist snapped and he cursed his traitorous brain.

“Verdammt nochmal,” Hermann grumbled, resignedly climbing down the ladder to get a new piece of chalk.

“Something bothering you?” Newt asked sincerely. Hermann almost laughed.

“It’s fine, Newton.”

“Okay,” Newt said, biting his lip. Hermann vaguely wondered if he could find a rule somewhere about lip biting being innapropriate behaviour in a lab. Maybe writing another complaint would take the edge of his frustration. How could Newt look so good doing it anyway?

“If it’s ever not fine…” Newt trailed off, looking at the floor. Hermann’s heart felt heavier than a Jaeger.

“Thank you, Newton.” Hermann didn’t know what else to say. How could he ever tell Newt? It was embarrassing enough as it was.

Newt nodded and turned back to his research. He leaned across a piece of stinky Kaiju to retrieve his scalpel, and Hermann got a full HD, technicolour view of Newt’s arse. There really didn’t seem to be any escaping it.

\---

It was by sheer luck that Hermann found his old plastic protractor. Only 10cm wide, but the plastic was transparent (otherwise it would defeat the purpose) and entirely intact.

He waited three days before an opportune moment arose.

Newt was busy rummaging around in some part of a Kaiju, up to his elbows in rubber gloves and Kaiju insides when it happened. Newt was having difficulty finding something, so he hoisted one leg up onto the table to get a better angle, like a snooker player might. And just like that, Newt’s arse was on display.

After Hermann had reassured himself Newt was wearing an apron and wasn’t exposing himself to any acid on accident, Hermann swiftly took his chance. He whipped his protractor out, pushed his glassed up his nose and got a pencil at the ready to take notes. Getting the protractor and Newt’s arse to line up was hard work.

Hermann frantically tried to scribble down measurements as quickly as he could, going for overall shape and then mapping it out more accurately. If he could get a good idea about the shape, he could start to work on a more accurate equation for the curvature.

But this data, observational and with such a large margin of error - Hermann knew it could never compare to the real deal.

His next attempt was while Newt was snoozing. One of his legs was bent so it wasn’t ideal, but Hermann would take what he could get.

In fact, since Newt was usually out for a good half hour, maybe Hermann would get out some more sophisticated equipment… no, Hermann shook his head. He was going too far.

How had he let this irrational obsession have such a hold over him?

(And would he ever really be satisfied with anything that wasn’t the real deal?)

\---

“Morning Hermann,” Newt chirped, slinking into the lab ten minutes after Hermann.

“Good morning,” Hermann replied, looking at Newt from the corner of his eye. He was wearing the dark grey jeans again today. Newt needed to turn them up. They were Hermann’s favourite. His right hand twitched as it occurred to him, as it did every time Hermann saw Newt wearing those jeans, how much he wanted to stick his hands down those deep back pockets and squeeze.

“The coffee today was extra terrible.” The coffee was terrible every day. Newt liked to make this joke almost every other day.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Hermann said, which is what he always said when Newt complained about the coffee, because really, it could still be worse.

“Yes, it was.” They settled into work for the day. Which they did in their usual way, until late afternoon when Newt asked:

“Hermann, who would win in a fight, Trespasser or Ceremander?”

Hermann sighed, looking away from his computer to focus on Newt. He was staring aimlessly at a yellow tank, no doubt getting distracted from planning a dissection or something equally messy.

“I don’t know.” Newt’s expression darkened.

“You tell me - you’re the one who probably wouldn’t mind having them locked in eternal combat by inking them on you!”

“That is actually a pretty awesome idea,” Newt beamed, facing Hermann. His smile was beautiful and Hermann scowled.

“Where would you even have room?” The words were out before Hermann could think better of them and bite them back.

“Uh,” Newt thought for a moment, ”my ass I guess? I mean if I wanted enough room to have them done properly, with enough detail...”

Hermann barely even heard his internal alarm bells going off over his new stream of thoughts. So it wasn’t inked. Newt was open to the idea of it being inked and he was honestly considering Hermann’s wisecrack idea.

“Really?” Hermann raised an eyebrow, “I thought you would have covered it by now.” It wasn’t too implausible to think that Hermann had had that thought, he’d often made a scathing remark about Newt’s tattoos. Of course it had nothing to do with various daydream scenarios he’d had of his arse.

“Nah man,” Newt said, shaking his head. “It never felt right.”

Hermann didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even come up with a retort. He was imagining Newt staring at himself over his shoulder in the mirror, eyeing up his own arse, evaluating whether he should get a tattoo there or not. Hermann imagined it might look a tiny bit odd if Newt had inked his back and the backs of his legs but not his arse…

“You seriously think I have a tattoo there?” Newt had taken Hermann’s silence as a retort.

“What I think about your arse if of no consequence.” Hermann half expected his pants to burst into flames at that blatant lie. It was only true in so far as it was of no consequence to Newt and of no consequence to them, since there wasn’t really a _them_ in that sense. No, the only consequences were for Hermann and he was thoroughly vexed by them.

“Okay, this is probably weird, but I really don’t have a space monster tattooed on my ass.” Newt began unbuckling his belt. He walked over to Hermann’s side of the lab. Hermann was too worried about what was to come to appreciate the sight in front of him.

“What on earth are you doing?” Hermann was suddenly so glad that he was sitting down.

“Proving to you that I am not a complete Kaiju groupie. Empirical evidence and all that.”

Newt was going to show Hermann his arse.

It seemed such a simple solution for him, but for Hermann it felt was like the end was coming. This was it. The ETA on his personal apocalypse had finally reached zero. Never mind Kaiju Blue, this was going to make Hermann’s brain melt.

“And the only way to prove it, is-is to show me your arse?” Hermann thought his voice sounded shriller than normal, but he barely registered it.

“Well I could look for a photo, but this is easier.”

Easier. A photo. When had Newt - and why - _easier?_ \- Hermann’s thoughts were fighting each other for attention as he watched the jeans bunch around Newt’s knees. Newt awkwardly shuffled in a semicircle so that his back was facing Hermann. There was a tattoo on the side of his left thigh, but his right leg seemed to be tattoo-free.

“Look, okay, all my ass is, is pale.” Newt hooked his thumbs in the elastic of his boxer briefs - which were covered in double helixes, _of course_ they were - and tugged them down. Hermann was not ready.

“See?”

Hermann saw it all. The few lingering stretch marks at the edges, a few tiny moles, skin that had probably not seen the sun in a long while and had definitely never seen a tattoo gun. Hermann tried to catalogue everything as his brain seemed to dissolve into a tirade of error messages.

Hermann leaned forward without realising he was doing it. He licked his lips, his mouth dropping open slightly. He was enticed, no, completely enamoured by the sight in front of him.

“Um, Hermann?”

Hermann blinked and swallowed thickly, forcing himself to concentrate on the reality of the situation.

“Yes, yes, no tattoos. Very well, Newton.”

Newt didn’t say anything. He frowned at Hermann instead, seeming to be on the verge of saying something. Hermann didn’t have time to bicker right now. He needed to withdraw and process what had just happened.

“You’ve made your point,” Hermann said roughly.

“Hermann, are you,” Newt licked his lips, “are you attracted to me?”

Hermann clenched the seat of his chair with both hands.

This day had been bound to come, yet Hermann had always hoped it wouldn’t. He wasn’t ashamed by his attraction to Newt, no, that wasn’t it. Sure, his obsession with a certain body part was, at best, embarrassing, perhaps weird and endearing. No, what caused the curl of dread in his stomach was the fact he was sure Newt would reject him. He may care about Hermann - they were friends of sorts, after all - but Hermann didn’t think Newt would ever think about him like _that._

“Yes.” Hermann watched Newt’s face intently, waiting for the sad look in Newt’s eyes when he realised he would hurt Hermann when he rejected him.

“Really?” Newt’s expression was one of disbelief.

“Yes, really,” Hermann huffed, balling his hands into fists in his lap. “Is it really so hard to consider I would have feelings of that kind for another person? Even being a stuck up, snobby, organisation obsessed maths professor who has no social life and a poor sense of taste?” Hermann said, parroting insults Newt had slung at him over the years back at him. He didn’t have the heart to dig for anything more insulting - it was already a low enough blow.

“No, no, it’s not that at all-” Newt fidgeted.

Hermann pursed his lips.

“Hermann listen, it’s more… I just didn’t think you’d ever think about me like that, okay?” Newt was staring at the ground.

Hermann felt his defenses crumbling along with a small part of his heart.

“Whyever not, Newton?”

“It’s just, I’m so,” Newt turned to face him now, talking with his hands, oblivious to how nearly naked he was below the belt, “and you’re so-” Newt waved frustratedly with his hands, gesturing towards Hermann.

Hermann raised an eyebrow. Confusion was currently winning the battle of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“You’re really handsome, you know?” Newt looked a little defeated.

Hermann felt lightheaded. He was sure brain matter was going to start leaking from his ears at any moment. He just gaped.

“C’mon, someone must have told you that before.”

Hermann shook his head no. “ _You’re_ bloody gorgeous, Newton,” Hermann breathed.

“Oh yeah?” Newt smiled, turning a little to show off the curve of his arse. Hermann wasn’t sure it was a completely conscious decision. All the same, he felt his eyes drawn to it before he ripped his gaze away, focusing on Newt’s face again.

“You know, I thought I caught you staring, but I always thought you were just fuming about my clothes.” Newt turned a little more.

Hermann could feel his cheeks heating up. He could feel his dick becoming interested. Hermann had never been happier about his decidedly un-skinny trousers.

“Those jeans _are_ ridiculous,” Hermann said, his voice a little raspy.

Hermann started to wonder if Newt wore skinny jeans every day on purpose.

“Too ridiculous for wearing in the lab?” Newt was flirting. “Maybe I should find a solution to that problem.” Newt began to reach down, presumably to push his jeans down further. Hermann lamented that he couldn’t see Newt’s arse in it’s full glory as he bent down.

“We can amend that rule. You look too good in them to pass up on.” Newt froze.

Hermann saw way Newt’s dick twitched. His legs felt like wet noodles, but Hermann hoped his trust in them to support him would see him through as he stood up, reaching for his cane.

“Do you want to do this?” Hermann said softly, a small part of him still steeling for rejection.

“Yes, yes absolutely,” Newt nodded, stepping forward, almost tripping himself up with his jeans. He laughed. Hermann caught his elbow with his free hand.

“Do you have have any idea how long I have been looking?” Hermann asked, trying to sound sexy.

“No.”

Hermann’s grip tightened a fraction and he tugged Newt closer.

“Maybe?” Hermann could feel Newt’s breath again his neck, his jaw.

Hermann stepped closer, closing any gap left between them. The clack of his cane was loud in the quiet lab, but neither of them noticed.

Hermann leaned forward to press a soft kiss against the hinge of Newt’s jaw, licking the spot right after. Newt tipped his head to side, giving Hermann access to his neck. Hermann smirked against Newt’s jaw.

“You like that?”

“Yeah,” Newt replied breathily. He was being uncharacteristically quiet.

Hermann kissed him again; kept kissing his way down Newt’s neck, licking a little as he went, until he reached the collar of his shirt. He liked the small breathy noises Newt was making. It was thrilling to know that he could have this kind of effect on Newt.

“Come back up here,” Newt said, cupping Hermann’s face with his free hand and pulling it up. They stared into each other’s eyes for a brief, heart stopping moment before Newt kissed him.

Newt’s lips were slightly chapped, but Hermann didn’t care, he kissed him back, passionately. He released Newt’s elbow from his grip and wound his arm around Newt’s waist. Newt was warm against him, even through the layers of clothing that separated them. Newt kissed like a drowning man, Hermann thought, not because he wasn’t getting any air, he could still breathe through his nose. It was because Newt was kissing him like it was the only thing that could matter.

It was as Hermann angled his head to allow for better access that he remembered. In all this, Newt hadn’t actually pulled his boxer briefs back up again.

If there was ever a moment, then this was it.

Hermann slid his hand downwards, tracing the curve of Newt’s lower back until he reached the bottom of his shirt. How many time had he fantasized about this moment?

He slid his hand down further and confidently fondled Newt’s left cheek. Newt melted towards him a little and Hermann squeezed. His fantasies had not come close to how nice it felt.

“Oh,” Newt said, letting out little moan. His hands grasped at the lapels of Hermann’s jacket.

Hermann kissed him again, quick and teasing.

“We need to get a room,” Newt said as they broke apart.

“Ah, yes.” Hermann felt embarrassed. They hadn’t even bothered to lock the door to the lab. “That would be most desireable.”

“I can’t wait to get my hands on you,” Newt smiled, wiggling his arse.

Hermann felt a pang of sadness as he released it. Now that he’d had a feel, he only wanted more.

Newt made quick work of pulling his pants and trousers up again, only fumbling a little with his belt. Hermann turned his computer off and placed a bookmark in the file he’d been reading.

“Ready to go?” Newt sounded impatient.

“Go where?” Hermann asked.

“Your room is closer,” Newt said. It was, by about three metres. Hermann felt blood rush downwards at the implication that three metres was too great a distance for Newt’s impatience to get hot and heavy with Hermann.

“Wait,” Hermann said, as Newt began to head to the door.

“You forgot something,” Hermann smirked, and reached down to pull up Newt’s fly. He gripped it between his two forefingers, letting the pad of his thumb rub against Newt’s dick through his jeans.

Newt whined. “Okay. We’re leaving. Now.”

And they did. The walk to Hermann’s room seemed at least five times longer than usual. Hermann unlocked the door, letting Newt in first, then closed it behind him. The moment he turned around, Newt was there, his hands resting on Hermann’s hips.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you at all, or if they hurt,” Newt said, referring to his legs. He waited until Hermann nodded before stepping closer.

“Rest on me?” Newt gripped Hermann’s cane and Hermann answered by relinquishing his grip. He marveled at how tender Newt was being.

“Here,” Newt said, gently taking Hermann’s hands and placing them on his hips.

“I am perfectly capable of doing that myself, Newton,” Hermann said, giving Newt a withering look.

“I know,” Newt smirked.

There was only one logical way to proceed. Hermann was going to go for the double grab. With a smirk, he slid his hands into Newt’s back pockets and drew him closer. Newt gasped as their crotches came into contact.

“Good,” Hermann said before kissing Newt. It was messier than before, and when they broke apart Hermann dove straight back in again, sucking at Newt’s lower lip.

“Uhh, bed, now. Also, less clothing,” Newt choked out. Hermann _was_ feeling rather hot and bothered. He was glad when Newt reached forward and undid his top two buttons. He forgot about the rest of them as well as his jumper and jacket when Newt kissed him there, licking more than Hermann had and undoubtedly leaving a trace.

Hermann gave Newt’s arse an experimental squeeze, almost - almost - completely distracted from giving it the attention it deserved. As Newt intensified his onslaught, Hermann gripped a little harder, letting out a soft moan

“You like that, huh?” Newt said, not cockily, but rather gently.

“Yes,” Hermann gasped. Newt moved down further. He was probably getting spit on Hermann’s shirt at this point, but Hermann was past caring.

“How is your neck so sexy?” Newt huffed against his clavicle. Hermann couldn’t think of an answer or a retort.

“Bed,” Hermann croaked as his knees wobbled. Newt gripped his elbows, removing Hermann’s hands from his pockets and they were on the bed in seconds, sitting side by side on the edge.

One of Hermann’s hands reached to cup Newt’s jaw as they resumed making out and the other slid over Newt’s leg, around his hip and finally, to cup Newt’s arse again.

“Yes,” Hermann said, swimming in the thrill of kissing, “so good.”

“Herm,” Newt said when they pulled apart again, “I’m beginning to think you have a thing for my ass.”

Hermann felt his cheeks heat up and his lips clamp together.

Newt raised an eyebrow. “So you do.” Hermann thought Newt looked like he’d just proved a game changing hypothesis.

“Yes,” Hermann admitted. Newt didn’t react for a second, then:

“You want to see it up close and personal?”

The irritation at Newt’s choice of words was there and gone in a flash as Hermann realised what Newt was offering.

“Yes,” Hermann said.

“Does this mean I get to see more of you, too?” Hermann was ever grateful for Newt’s considerate nature.

“If you like,” Hermann said.

He’d often thought it might be peculiar if he’d never felt shame about his body, but he’d made peace with it long ago. Sure, he wasn’t conventionally attractive, but Hermann liked the piercing gaze that stared back in the mirror. And if Newt felt the way Hermann did about Newt - maybe without the obsession - then well, getting naked together sounded great. His usual adamant dislike of undressing around others had to do with the fact that he really was a private person; and maybe he did just really like the clothes he wore, the way they made him feel.

“I would like that, very much.” Newt smiled, reaching for another button. He had almost reached the v of his navy jumper. Hermann felt himself melt it a little more. Though it was a physical impossibility (technically so unlikely it wasn’t worth thinking about), Hermann still thought he might just end up a puddle from all this melting. Newt was just extraordinary.

His jacket came off easily and his glasses were carefully placed on the bedside table. Hermann held up his arms for his jumper obligingly, and then Newt was working on his buttons again with a laser focus. Hermann slid his hands up Newt’s sides (the thought that he would be able to touch Newt’s arse again without the jeans and pesky fun boxer briefs in the way was a comfort) and undid his tie, moving onto Newt’s buttons next. He was finished when Newt had gotten down to his belly button.

Hermann was about to make a smart-alec comment, but was distracted by Newt’s tattoos. He’d known they extended all over his chest and down to his groin, but seeing it was so different. A few tendrils of colour disappeared below his belt, and the onslaught of thoughts was like a frying pan to the face.

Hermann would never admit to even entertaining the possibility of liking Newt’s tattoos, so all he said was: “They are more vivid than you described them.”

Newt paused. “Oh, yeah.”

Hermann could feel frustration boiling in his stomach. The sight of Newt’s skin, right there. He wanted to touch it, to lick, to feel it against his own. Newt was being rather… slow.

“I’m just taking my time,” Newt hummed.

Ah, he might have said that last bit out loud. How embarrassing. Except that now his shirt was also fully undone. He removed it without a second thought. Then he reached for Newt’s.

“May I?” Hermann asked.

“You absolutely may,” Newt said, a little pink.

Hermann should have thought to mentally prepare himself for the sight that awaited him. He should have thought to mentally prepare himself before this whole series of events, he was already half hard. But then again, this situation was unprecedented. Unprecedented, but completely wonderful.

Hermann made the decision to remove his own shoes, then trousers as swiftly as possible, taking his underwear with them. He was peeling off his socks when he heard Newt.

“Oh, wow.” It was quieter than his usual excited babble, but in the quiet it took up all the space in the room. Newt was staring at him, his eyes slightly lidded. Hermann carefully finished, leaving himself completely bare.

Newt blinked, and finished removing his own clothes, softly uttering a curse.

Suddenly Newt launched himself onto the bed, extending his arms and legs, as if he could hug it. “Your bed is comfier than mine,” Newt grumbled, which started a laugh from Hermann.

“Memory foam mattress,” Hermann said in lieu of an explanation.

“You like the view?” Newt smirked as Hermann raked his eyes over Newt’s body. He settled for staring at Newt’s arse.

Hermann stood up and walked over to a cupboard slowly, half intending to find some measuring equipment.

“Herm, are you getting lube and a condom?” Newt sounded confused and Hermann paused. That idea sounded far more appealing than mathematics, which things, to be honest, rarely did.

“Oh, um, yes,” Hermann replied and shut the cupboard. He limped back to the side of the bed and opened the draw of his bedside table. He pulled out a tube of lube and placed it unceremoniously on the bed before moving Newt’s limbs out of the way so he could lay down beside him, laying on his side.

“I, ah, don’t have any condoms,” Hermann confessed.

“Well, I’m clean, but - I mean, I’m not presuming or anything - I have some in my room, if you want,” Newt said.

“We could satisfy ourselves without them, this time. And for the record, so am I.”

Newt smiled “I want there to be a next time, too. And I’m happy to take things slow, I’m,” Newt bit his lip, considering his words carefully, “this isn’t just sex, though, is it?”

“I don’t want it to be,” Hermann said, laying a hand over Newt’s.

“That’s awesome, I can’t wait to date you so hard.” Newt reached out and brushed his thumb across Hermann’s lips, letting his fingers rest against them.

Hermann rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop his cheeks from heating up a little.

“Aw man, I love your blush,” Newt sighed, “it even extends down to your chest a little.”

Newt’s fingers was still warm against Hermann’s lips, and so he did the only logical thing to do: he pursed his lips around Newt’s forefinger, and, leaning forward, sucked on it.

Newt moaned.

“Oh, ah, Hermann. You can’t just go around doing that to a guy without warning.”

Hermann looked Newt in the eye, winked at him, and sucked down to his knuckle. He swirled his tongue around it. Newt’s answering groan went straight to Hermann’s dick.

“This is great, really great Hermann,” Newt said, his eyes lidded. Hermann released Newt’s finger with a pop. Newt sent him a questioning, yet still lusty, look.

“Kiss me,” Hermann said, looking pointedly at Newt’s lips. They were more red than usual from all the kissing they had already been doing.

“Yes, of course,” Newt said, stumbling over his words a little. He scooted a little closer and rested his hand on Hermann’s waist.

“Is that good?”

Hermann nodded. “Newton, kiss me, _please_.”

And Newt did. He licked his way into Hermann’s mouth, doing things with his tongue that made Hermann squirm in the best of ways. Newt’s hand slowly moved down to Hermann’s hip, to his thigh. His touch was feather light and uncomfortable at first, but then he started to rub Hermann’s thigh lightly, his thumb stimulating his sensitive skin on the inside gently, and Hermann melted.

“Newton,” Hermann half moaned, half sighed, as Newt broke away and went to town on his neck.

“I love how you say my name,” Newt whispered into the crook of Hermann’s neck where he was busy trying to cover every centimeter of Hermann’s skin with soft, fleeting kisses.

“Newton,” Hermann said again, stronger and with more intention this time. “ _Newton._ ”

The urgency in Hermann’s voice was enough to divert his attention away from his very important task. Newt looked up at Hermann’s through his lashes.

“You’re beautiful,” Hermann said, lightly running his hand across Newt’s chest. Newt was speechless. “So beautiful.” In Hermann’s internal rankings of beauty, Newt was right up there with mathematics and the night sky in an area with minimal light pollution.

Hermann took his time when he reached one of Newt’s nipples, circling it with his thumb before rolling the nub between his thumb and forefinger. Newt shivered, and his dick brushed against Hermann’s.

“I want,” Hermann sounded ragged as he inhaled, “I want to get you off.”

When Newt didn’t reply immediately, Hermann asked: “Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes I would. Very much.”

After interpreting Hermann’s hand gesture correctly, Newt reached over him to grab the lube. He used both hands to squeeze some onto Hermann’s hands. Hermann tried to warm it with his hands before giving himself a few languorous strokes, but impatience and pleasure beat immediate comfort. Hermann closed his eyes for a few seconds, imagining what was to come, savouring the moment.

Hermann smirked when he heard Newt groan. He smiled as Newt closed the gap between them. They both groaned when Hermann took them both in his hand, his dexterous fingers sliding up and down, down and up.

“That feels so good,” Newt mumbled, his breath hitching. He brought a hand up to grasp the back of Hermann’s head, his fingers twisting in the longer strands of hair. Hermann rubbed his thumb over the head of Newt’s dick and Newt bucked into his hand, whimpering.

They thrust into Hermann’s hand, rubbing against each other. Hermann’s other hand reached out and gripped a cheek of Newt’s arse, holding on as they worked their way closer and closer to climax. Hermann could barely think of all the other things he wanted to do with Newt, could barely think of anything existing outside of this moment in time, outside of this feeling, outside of Newt breathing along in tandem to him.

“I’m close,” Hermann panted, increasing his speed. Newt’s glasses were crooked, the lenses slightly fogged up.

“Me too,” Newt gasped and Hermann felt his lips stretch into a smile.

“Come here,” Newt said, the laugh around his eyes indicating he was well aware of the double entendre in his words. Hermann almost did.

Instead he met Newt halfway for a sloppy yet aching kiss. They were both too far gone for much finesse, but there was still a sweetness between them amidst the desperation and gasping. Hermann leant his forehead against Newt’s as he felt himself topple over the edge.

“Newton,” Hermann moaned, pleasure ripping through him. His eyes were closed and Hermann thought this might be a little like how the universe felt when it first came into existence: achingly warm, at peace, happy and not alone anymore. There was something more than the apparent nothingness of non existence.

Hermann kept on stroking, upping his pace yet again in hope of sending Newt over the edge.

“Uhh, Herm,” Newt gasped, reaching his climax, pulling on Hermann’s hair. Hermann felt the hot weight of Newt’s load against his stomach

They laid there, foreheads touching and sharing air as they floated on endorphins.

“That was incredible,” Newt finally said, a grin plastered on his face.

“Yes,” Hermann agreed.

“We should probably clean up though,” Newt sighed, starting to untangle himself from Hermann. A glance down revealed quite a mess, though, luckily, the sheet seemed to have been spared the worst of it.

“I’ll take care of it,” Newt said as Hermann began to move to sit up. Hermann reclined again.

As Newt got up, Hermann’s eyes followed him, or move specifically, his arse. There had been a small hope that his obsession would subside after he had gotten up close and personal with it, but it seemed not. Hermann came to the conclusion that it was just part of being completely and utterly infatuated with one doctor Newton Geiszler.


End file.
